Case Number 04154

FREAKS AND GEEKS: THE COMPLETE SERIES

The Charge

Everything you remember from high school...that you choose to forget.

Opening Statement

On April 27, 2000, Daily Variety ran a full-page ad for Freaks and
Geeks that read, in part, "GIVE 'FREAKS' A CHANCE!" At the time,
the DreamWorks-produced NBC television series had been officially cancelled for
over a month; the ad was paid for by fans, who had collected $3,746 in an online
campaign to save the show.

Now that's loyalty.

So, what was the big deal about Freaks and Geeks, a show about
teenagers in a medium awash in shows about teenagers? Why would the Museum of
Television and Radio stage a marathon screening of a series that lasted barely a
single season -- a screening that sold out in 15 minutes?

It's simple, really: Freaks and Geeks kicked ass. Nothing more or
less than that. It didn't revolutionize prime-time television. It didn't change
the face of popular culture. It was just a show about high school life -- but
one that depicted the trials and tribulations of the teen years with equal
measures of humor and brutal honesty, without glamorizing them or bathing them
in the warm golden glow of nostalgia. Eschewing the photogenic angst of
Dawson's Creek and the breezy sentimentality of The Wonder Years,
Freaks and Geeks was a teen soap opera that was neither sudsy nor
operatic. (Discuss.) And in its fleeting existence, there was nothing else on
television quite like it.

Freaks and Geeks was doomed from the start. Weeks before it debuted
in the infamous Saturday night "death slot," Time magazine
suggested that "now, in fact, might be a good time to register
www.save-f&g.com." And sure enough, after months of minimal promotion,
repeated preemptions, and the misfortune of competing against Who Wants to Be
a Millionaire?, NBC pulled the plug. Given the network's infanticidal
attitude towards Freaks and Geeks one wonders why it even bothered airing
the series in the first place.

In any case, Freaks and Geeks has maintained a steady and vociferous
cult following in the years since its premature demise. Now, thanks to the DVD
format, which is fast becoming the life-after-death of failed TV shows
(including such cult favorites as Firefly, The Critic, and the
forthcoming Chris Carter series Millennium and Harsh Realm), this
near-legendary series has been granted eternal digital life in the form of
Freaks and Geeks: The Complete Series.

Over 35,000 fans demanded it, and Shout! Factory has delivered, with a
stunning six-disc set containing all 18 episodes -- several of which were never
aired -- of Freaks and Geeks, including a director's cut of the pilot
episode and a truly staggering array of special features. Assuming there isn't a
12-disc Ultimate Edition of The Ropers on the horizon, it's safe to say
that Freaks and Geeks: The Complete Series is the most definitive
presentation of a television show you'll see on DVD this year. (Well, almost --
but more about that later.)

Facts of the Case

The opening shot of the pilot episode says everything about Freaks and
Geeks you need to know. As a title card reads "William McKinley High
School," we open on a football field and pan left to the bleachers, where a
hunky blonde jock and his pretty blonde cheerleader girlfriend are engaged in a
heart-to-heart exchange straight out of 90210. "Ashley, it's just
that I love you so much...it scares me!" the jock says breathlessly, as the
couple lock lips in a gauzy teen-soap kiss. So far, so familiar. But then the
camera swoops down beneath the bleachers, the Dawson-style alt-pop
soundtrack gives way to a heavy Van Halen riff, and we meet the real stars of
our show: a bunch of grungy, denim-clad stoners waxing ecstatic about Led
Zeppelin; and, as the camera swoops once again to the side, we meet a group of
gangly dweebs engaged in an energetic discussion of Bill Murray in
Caddyshack. Welcome to the world of Freaks and Geeks.

Set in a small Michigan town in 1980, Freaks and Geeks revolves
around the teenaged Weir siblings, Lindsay (Linda Cardellini, presently starring
in ER and as Velma in the Scooby-Doo movies) and her younger
brother Sam (John Francis Daley). Lindsay, 16, is an ace student and
"mathlete" who has spun into an existential crisis following her
grandmother's death and has taken to wearing a green army jacket and hanging
with the disreputable "freaks," led by hunky delinquent Daniel (James
Franco of Spider-Man fame, doing his best James Dean). Fourteen-year-old
Sam, meanwhile, is a geek struggling to survive in a Darwinian hell of jocks,
bullies, and dodgeball, navigating the rocks and shoals of high school life with
his geeky compadres Neal (Samm Levine) and Bill (Martin Starr).

Meet the Freaks:

Lindsay Weir: Lindsay is the classic good-girl-gone-bad. She has begun to
question everything about her life and former ambitions and is torn between her
love for and loyalty to her family and "good" friends (like her
Christian, straight-arrow best friend, Millie), and her need to break out of the
conventional mold she is being poured into and discover her own identity.

Daniel Desario: Routinely dismissed by teachers and his own friends as a
vapid, brooding bad boy with bedroom eyes, Daniel, as the leader of his gang of
freaks, is content to do little else but hang out under the bleachers and smoke
dope -- that is, until smart-girl Lindsay enters his life. For the first time,
Daniel begins to question his slacker lifestyle and wonder if there is more to
him than the world has given him credit for.

Nick Andopolis (Jason Segel): Wide-eyed, passionate Nick idolizes John
Bonham and dreams of becoming a superstar rock drummer. As played by Segel, who
seems to be channeling the spirit of Judge Reinhold in Fast Times at
Ridgemont High, Nick is a stoner with the heart of a poet, a dreamer who has
yet to have his illusions smashed by cold, hard reality.

Kim Kelly (Busy Philipps): The kind of badass chick who strikes terror in
the hearts of lesser men, Kim is a self-described bad girl and slut, but there's
much more to Kim than her angry, tough-bitch persona would suggest. As the
series progresses, the cracks in Kim's carefully constructed armor open up to
reveal the complicated, insecure girl within.

Ken Miller (Seth Rogen): Witheringly sarcastic and cynical, Ken is the
group's snarky Freak chorus, always on hand to deflate any dramatic situation
with a smartassed jibe, delivered in the deadest of deadpan tones. Nothing seems
to be able to penetrate his wall of ironic detachment -- that is, until he meets
a girl with a tuba who proves more than his match.

Meet the Geeks:

Sam Weir: A skinny 98-pound shrimp (actually, he insists he weighs 103
pounds), Sam is caught in that awkward limbo between childhood and adolescence.
When he's not being terrorized by bullies and bombarded with killer dodgeballs,
Sam pursues a hopeless (or is it?) infatuation with pretty cheerleader Cindy
Sanders (Natasha Melnick).

Neal Schweiber: A miniature Borscht Belt comedian prone to corny jokes and
bad William Shatner impersonations, Neal knows he's a comic genius -- the rest
of the world just hasn't realized it yet. Like Sam, he's a geek who
not-so-secretly wishes he were cool. Unlike Sam, he hasn't got a prayer.

Bill Haverchuck: The Spock of this geek triumvirate, Bill is a Geekasaurus
Rex in Coke-bottle glasses, a poster boy for Asperger Syndrome whose propensity
for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time is matched only by his love of
Dallas and Bill Murray. While his friends yearn for popularity, Bill is
more than content to exist in his comfortably dorky world, and as such is
probably the most well-adjusted character in the entire series.

The Evidence

Plot-wise, Freaks and Geeks is a loose, low-concept affair, focusing
on its characters and the small victories, defeats, and tragedies that compose
the exquisite agony that is adolescence. Though it's not a sitcom by any stretch
of the imagination, Freaks and Geeks is funny as hell -- but its humor
flows not from canned one-liners and contrived situations, but from the mundane
absurdities of real life.

In writing the series, creator Paul Feig and producer Judd Apatow (who
previously wrote for The Larry Sanders Show), along with a crew of
writers including Mike White (School of Rock) and former Saturday
Night Live writer Steve Bannos, collected their most embarrassing, painful
memories of high school and foisted them upon their hapless characters. Unless
you won the High School Lotto and enjoyed a carefree, untroubled teen existence,
you'll find the predicaments suffered by the freaks and geeks painfully
familiar. It's all here: showing up at school in a "cool" outfit only
to be greeted by horrified stares, getting caught trying to pass off a fake ID,
falling desperately in love with someone who gives you the kiss of crush death
-- being thought of as a sibling, and of course, the Lord of the Flies
nightmare that is gym class.

With its '80s setting and teen focus, Freaks and Geeks could easily
have settled into Wonder Years-style nostalgia or the over-the-top
silliness of That '70s Show, but Feig and Apatow keep it real every step
of the way, with writing that deftly steers the perilous course between mawkish
sentimentality on one side and overly hip irony on the other, and characters
that seem at first to be mere types (the bad boy, the nerd) but defy easy
categorizations. In each lovingly crafted episode, the writers set up generic
expectations only to knock them down; even the "Freaks and Geeks"
labels of the title become blurred, as in one of the later episodes in which
too-cool-for-school Daniel becomes a D&D geek, playing "Carlos the
Dwarf."

It would be impossible to list every little thing that Freaks and
Geeks gets right, but near the top of that list would be the astonishing
fidelity to its time period; if you were alive and anywhere near your teen years
in 1980, you'll be hard pressed to find anything about the tone and look of the
show that clashes with your memories of that era. The feeling of authenticity is
helped greatly by the actors, who deliver uniformly pitch-perfect, utterly
natural performances. Sam, Neal, and Bill are eerily similar to the guys I used
to hang out with when I was 14, and their dialogue could be transcripts of
conversations I had with my fellow geeks. Paul Feig drew heavily upon his own
memories of growing up in small-town Michigan in creating Freaks and
Geeks, and that experience shows in the smallest details, from Kim's striped
jacket to the geeks' discussions of Three's Company and The Dukes of
Hazzard.

As good as the lead actors are, it's the supporting cast that fills out the
rich fabric of Freaks and Geeks with often hilarious, always true to life
performances. SCTV alumnus Joe Flaherty is the dad that we all either had or
knew ("You know who used to cut class? Jimi Hendrix. You know what happened
to him? He died!"); Mr. Rosso, the ex-hippie guidance counselor played by
Dave "Gruber" Allen, steals every scene he's in; Jerry Messing as
preternaturally wise fat kid Gordon Crisp is a pure delight every time he opens
his mouth; and Stephen Lea Sheppard, as the Yoda-like geek guru Harris, is a
steely-eyed High Priest of Nerd-dom, brimming with dryly absurd wisdom.

Then there's Tom Wilson (of Back to the Future fame) as Coach
Fredricks, a character who could have been just another stereotypical meathead
fascist but instead becomes a surprisingly sympathetic character; series writer
Steve Bannos, in front of the camera as gruff, no-nonsense math teacher Mr.
Kowchevski (whose "who would have guessed it?" secret is never
revealed in the show, but pops up in the deleted scenes); Becky Ann Baker
exuding maternal warmth and perplexed bewilderment in equal measure as the Weir
kids' mom; and adorable Natasha Melnick as cheerleader Cindy Sanders, the
epitome of every high school geek's unattainable dream girl.

My favorite supporting character, though, has to be the indefatigably
pure-hearted Millie, played by Sarah Hagan. At first, Millie comes across as
nothing more than a straitlaced stick in the mud, but no one on the show gets
such simplistic treatment (not even the thuggish class bully, Alan, who turns
out to have a sensitive side); she may be moralistic, but there's nothing
self-righteous or priggish about her proselytizing. She's so pure in her
goodness -- and Hagan exudes creamy sweetness -- that you can't help but be won
over by her innocence, especially during the rare moments where she walks on the
wild side...or at least sidles up to it. Millie's tireless campaign to draw her
wayward friend Lindsay back onto the straight and narrow path develops, by the
end of the series, into a struggle for her own soul, and out of all the
characters' evolutions that we'll never see, I think I'll miss hers the most. If
Freaks and Geeks ever had a lesson to teach, it's that everyone is human,
and no one ought to be defined by a label.

Finally, many of the episodes feature amusing cameo appearances by such
familiar faces as Ben Stiller (as a weary Secret Service agent),
Rushmore's Jason Schwartzman, and Mystery Science Theater 3000's
Trace Beaulieu and Joel Hodgson (the latter giving one of the funniest
performances in the series as a foppish clothing store salesman). Bablylon
5's Claudia Christian also shows up in a couple of episodes as Bill
Haverchuck's mom, and writer Mike White has a small recurring role as Kim's
addle-brained brother.

Video and audio quality in these episodes is uniformly excellent. The full
frame (OAR) image is a bit on the soft side, with a muted, high-contrast color
palette and a fair amount of grain, but this is an intentional stylistic choice,
as a subtle echo of the look and feel of TV and movies from the late '70s and
early '80s. Bill Pope, of Matrix fame, was the cinematographer on the
pilot, and the visual style he brings to that introductory episode carries
throughout the series. Audio in particular stands out, with a muscular Dolby
Digital 5.1 track that will give your home theater system a surprisingly decent
workout for a dialogue-heavy TV show. Rock & roll is a huge part of the
series, almost a character in itself (kudos to Shout! Factory for managing to
work out music licensing issues for a soundtrack full of songs by such artists
as The Who, Van Halen, the Grateful Dead, and Billy Joel -- issues that are
still holding back the DVD release of series like WKRP in Cincinnati),
and this set is meant to be played loud. (Of course, if you're an apartment
dweller like myself, you may actually find the loudness of the music relative to
dialogue a mixed blessing.) Also included is a Dolby Digital 2.0 stereo track;
both tracks are English-only. Strangely, there are no subtitles to be found, an
odd omission for such a feature-packed set.

With all the "Special," "Ultimate," "Extreme,"
and "Collector's" editions floating around out there, the world of DVD
is no stranger to hyperbole. In this case, though, the hype fits the product.
Not only does Freaks and Geeks: The Complete Series deliver the full run
of episodes as advertised, but it comes replete with a package of bonus
materials that nearly eclipses the main feature. Packed with over 40 hours of
special features, including commentaries, deleted scenes, behind-the-scenes
footage, and audition tapes, about the only thing this six-disc set doesn't do
is wash and wax your car.

Let me be perfectly honest: I didn't make it through even half of the extra
features on these discs. Otherwise, I'd still be writing this review in June.
We're talking about two and a half straight days of viewing here, a cornucopia
of extras that makes the Lord of the Rings extended sets look like
Artisan catalog releases. So, in lieu of a detailed examination of the bonus
material that would require this review to be published in book form, let me
just list the features disc-by-disc, to give you some idea of the wealth of
material to be found here.

Also included in the box set is a 28-page booklet containing a Q&A with
Apatow, an essay by Feig, and a collection of "geeky" photos.

With the possible exception of the behind-the-scenes footage, which consists
mainly of the actors goofing off and mugging in front of the camera, these are
solid, informative features. The commentaries are chatty, well larded with
production info and insights into character and story development, and quite
often amusing (especially the in-character commentary with "Coach
Fredricks" and "Mr. Rosso"). One interesting detail, in case you
missed it above, is that fans of the show were invited to participate in a
couple of the commentary tracks, a DVD first as far as I'm aware. Freaks and
Geeks owes its continued popularity and existence on DVD to the loyalty and
dedication of its audience, so it's quite a classy move on the part of
F&G's creators to give the show's fans such a prominent role on this
DVD package.

The Rebuttal Witnesses

There's only one reason I can think of for fans of Freaks and Geeks
not to grab this DVD set off the shelves the moment it's available. As stuffed
with extras as this release is, it's actually the "lite" version of
the set. That's right: there's an even more gargantuan version out there.
Available exclusively from the Freaks and Geeks official website (see
sidebar for link), the "Deluxe Edition" contains everything from the
regular set, plus six additional hours of features, including live table reads,
a one-hour cast and crew Q&A at the Museum of Television and Radio, and a
ton of other stuff, all bound in an embossed yearbook. Of course, that
super-deluxe edition sells for a hefty premium at $120, over twice as expensive
as the regular edition, but for the hardcore fan it may well be worth the extra
dough. Between these two versions, Freaks and Geeks sets a new standard
for television shows on DVD.

Closing Statement

As critically and popularly lauded as it was, why didn't Freaks and
Geeks survive? Well, as NBC exec Garth Ancier put it, in urging Apatow to
give the kids "more victories" and make the show more upbeat,
"Why do you want to be truthful? It's TV." Indeed. Freaks and
Geeks, for all its brilliance, simply wasn't the glamorous, escapist fantasy
of teenage life offered by shows like Dawson's Creek and Party of
Five. The travails of high-school misfits may make for gripping
entertainment, but sexy it isn't, and unsexy just doesn't sell in the ruthless,
glossy world of network television. In a way, it's almost appropriate that
Freaks and Geeks, a series about unpopular outcasts, got picked last for
the primetime team.

Perhaps it's for the best, after all, that F&G didn't last; like
John Bonham, Jimi Hendrix, and Jim Morrison, Freaks and Geeks died young
and never got a chance to overstay its welcome. It could be that right now, in
some alternate universe in which Freaks is wrapping up its fourth season
while Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? is moldering in the trash heap of
dismal flops, F&G fans are complaining about how the show has jumped
the shark. All the same, I'd rather be living in that universe.

The Verdict

Freaks and Geeks: The Complete Series is found not guilty, but like,
who cares, man?